Spike1d23
Everyone's favorite turtle
Off in the northern poll of the planet it had cooled enough to allow the water to freeze and make small glaciers and a layer of snow. Within the snow eira awoke stretching as if from a long sleep sitting up she looks around the area seeing nothing but snow,Ice and water this gave her comfort however she wanted to explore. Stepping onto the vast ocean the water freezes beneath her feat allowing her to walk freely ontop of it as she wonders aimlessly.
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Horicabu
lil Imp
Hakku was blown off his feet by the storm of fruit, and rummaged through it until he popped up from the island, now painted with a red carpet. He grinned, and took one in his hands, shaping it into a grey, clay-like substance. He pulled and pressed at it, until in his palms was a bloated pod of heavy eggs. "These worms will attach themselves to the roots of new trees and shape them to something more fitting of my island." He said, lowering the greasy orb and pushing it into the red, reflective carpet. "These trees will be tall and thin, and their bark will be muted and smooth like the stone around them. Their roots will travel over the ground as well as through the soil. Pods shall hang from their branches and nurture the worms within. One will not live without the other." He thought about it a little more. "But, in remembrance of the First Tree, their fruit, though sparse and rare to behold, shall be the same as it was."
Then the fear-god stomped on the ground, and the fruit flew off in all directions, sowing the trees all over his new lands.
Hakku smiled at Goggins, before going off to find Feara and create the small shrubs and grasses.
Then the fear-god stomped on the ground, and the fruit flew off in all directions, sowing the trees all over his new lands.
Hakku smiled at Goggins, before going off to find Feara and create the small shrubs and grasses.
FriendA
Member
Feara pouted. "No..." She kneeled down and picked up some dust as it ran down through her hands. "They were beauitful..." She then looked up to see her other brother hakku land infront of her and Goggin. Feara nodded at Hakku's request she thrusted her arms forward. Magical green dust flew onto the island and hit the ground as grass spread through the island. "Yes..perfect." She said turning to Hakku.
Drakey
A shape-shifting Dragon God
Paloria looked around herself. The top of the magma sea was cooling, turning to stone. This worried her for she liked hot places. Then, an idea sprung within her mind. She called to herself a number of the Fire Giants, ordering them to follow her. She walked through the magma as though it was water on a warm summer's day. After travelling for a ways, Paloria stopped. This would be the place in which she stayed.
Commanding the Giants, Paloria had them build great mountains from the cooling sea of stone. She had them hollowed out, and dug deep until they reached the still hot magma underneath. Volcanoes was what she would call them, and her domain would be a vast chain of them stretching from the far north to the lowest south. Pleased, Paloria smiled to herself in satisfaction.
Commanding the Giants, Paloria had them build great mountains from the cooling sea of stone. She had them hollowed out, and dug deep until they reached the still hot magma underneath. Volcanoes was what she would call them, and her domain would be a vast chain of them stretching from the far north to the lowest south. Pleased, Paloria smiled to herself in satisfaction.
Horicabu
lil Imp
Hakku grinned, and cast his hand over the grass. It grew short and began to split into many different kinds of shrubs, bushes, and tall plants.
"Wonderful!" He said. "Soon, I can form the world's first sentient beings!" The fear-god paused. "Their intelligence will rival our own." Said the winking god.
"Wonderful!" He said. "Soon, I can form the world's first sentient beings!" The fear-god paused. "Their intelligence will rival our own." Said the winking god.
Drakey
A shape-shifting Dragon God
Paloria looked over her fiery domain. A feeling of satisfaction came upon her, but something was wrong. The Giants, they were nothing more than dumb beasts. They constantly infuriated her to no end as well. Paloria came to a solution. She would create beings that could think for themselves. She looked around for something to base them off of, but couldn't find anything. But then she saw her reflection in one of the world's young oceans.
It came to her, the form for her new creations. Paloria shifted back into her Draconic form, becoming a giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard. She returned to her cavernous volcanoes, calling on the heat within their depths. The heat coalesced, but unlike with the giants, Paloria circulated the heat within her creation's form. Soon, from the molten rock came light bodies made of heat and minerals. They were Dragons. The first to walk this world.
As the Dragons' bodies cooled, the heat within them kept their joints bendable. Her creations roared, calling to her. As Paloria neared them, she saw something incredible. They had begun to build on their own, moving great boulders within the volcano's cavernous mouths. She had not even made an inkling of a wish for them to do this. The Dragon's creations were beautiful to Paloria.
It came to her, the form for her new creations. Paloria shifted back into her Draconic form, becoming a giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard. She returned to her cavernous volcanoes, calling on the heat within their depths. The heat coalesced, but unlike with the giants, Paloria circulated the heat within her creation's form. Soon, from the molten rock came light bodies made of heat and minerals. They were Dragons. The first to walk this world.
As the Dragons' bodies cooled, the heat within them kept their joints bendable. Her creations roared, calling to her. As Paloria neared them, she saw something incredible. They had begun to build on their own, moving great boulders within the volcano's cavernous mouths. She had not even made an inkling of a wish for them to do this. The Dragon's creations were beautiful to Paloria.
_BB_
Resident Bard
The Scribe ran. On all fours, they ran across the new world, the boiling surface moving around their feet. They moved swiftly, nimbly, leaping from rock to rock, skimming the surface of the magma beneath them.
They whipped around geysers of steaming air that screamed towards the blackened sky and took in long breaths of the thick, hot air. It seared their lungs, but they welcomed it. It let them know they were alive. After so long asleep somewhere beyond the stars, this new existence in this placeof heat and raw energy was enough to make the Scribe willing to withstand any hardship just to see and taste and listen again. And listen they did.
All around them, the Scribe heard it. Life. Life was beginningin this place they had been given. The Scribe's siblings were waking, slowly coming to terms with this new existence, each bringing their own thoughts to bear on the fate of this place, amd the Scribe could hear it all, from miles away. And so the Scribe ran. It wondered, this time, who woul remember them, for they knew that there were times before now where each of themhad met before. It was all there, in their mind. They recognised the very sense of them, the dark shroud of Hakku, the flaming eye of Paloria, the iron hand of Dymos. Here and there in the distance, Goggins vanished and reappeared, flickering, the sound of laughter echoing back to the Scribe across the paths of time. And there, far on tbe horizon, a darkness gathered that could only mean one thing.
Frowning, the Scribe redoubled their speed. But this world was too large for the Scribe to traverse like this. It would take too long. For the Scribe to see all that occurred in this place, they needed something more than this mere physical body. There were matters of great importance that needed attending to. The Scribe needed to create a library for their learning. They needed to bring their Seekers from across the realms to bring that knowledge into the Library. They needed to bring this world its first words. But first, it needed to find its siblings. It could feel them, as it could feel everything in this place. It could sense the growing masses, it could see the sprouting arms and the tangled webs of creation as each of the Scribe's siblings reached out into this world and began to mould it. The Scribe felt a primal desire to watch it, to see the raw energy being shaped and crafted and breathed into creation, to see its siblings as they worked, not just feel it from afar. Fortunately, the Scribe had its ways of seeing these things without being present. Still, there was no better way to record history than to experience it. The Scribe would stay detached, allow its siblings to act without its influence so history would be untouched by bias. But if the Scribe knew its siblings, nothing he could say at this point could dissuade them from their chosen actions, and after so long alone, the desire to speak to another being was nearly crippling.
So the Scribe ran.
They whipped around geysers of steaming air that screamed towards the blackened sky and took in long breaths of the thick, hot air. It seared their lungs, but they welcomed it. It let them know they were alive. After so long asleep somewhere beyond the stars, this new existence in this placeof heat and raw energy was enough to make the Scribe willing to withstand any hardship just to see and taste and listen again. And listen they did.
All around them, the Scribe heard it. Life. Life was beginningin this place they had been given. The Scribe's siblings were waking, slowly coming to terms with this new existence, each bringing their own thoughts to bear on the fate of this place, amd the Scribe could hear it all, from miles away. And so the Scribe ran. It wondered, this time, who woul remember them, for they knew that there were times before now where each of themhad met before. It was all there, in their mind. They recognised the very sense of them, the dark shroud of Hakku, the flaming eye of Paloria, the iron hand of Dymos. Here and there in the distance, Goggins vanished and reappeared, flickering, the sound of laughter echoing back to the Scribe across the paths of time. And there, far on tbe horizon, a darkness gathered that could only mean one thing.
Frowning, the Scribe redoubled their speed. But this world was too large for the Scribe to traverse like this. It would take too long. For the Scribe to see all that occurred in this place, they needed something more than this mere physical body. There were matters of great importance that needed attending to. The Scribe needed to create a library for their learning. They needed to bring their Seekers from across the realms to bring that knowledge into the Library. They needed to bring this world its first words. But first, it needed to find its siblings. It could feel them, as it could feel everything in this place. It could sense the growing masses, it could see the sprouting arms and the tangled webs of creation as each of the Scribe's siblings reached out into this world and began to mould it. The Scribe felt a primal desire to watch it, to see the raw energy being shaped and crafted and breathed into creation, to see its siblings as they worked, not just feel it from afar. Fortunately, the Scribe had its ways of seeing these things without being present. Still, there was no better way to record history than to experience it. The Scribe would stay detached, allow its siblings to act without its influence so history would be untouched by bias. But if the Scribe knew its siblings, nothing he could say at this point could dissuade them from their chosen actions, and after so long alone, the desire to speak to another being was nearly crippling.
So the Scribe ran.
Horicabu
lil Imp
Hakku looked upon his land, and saw that beyond its shores the magma sea was cooling. He was dissatisfied. Soon the geysers would fill the great molten plains with water, and flood his land. So he snapped his fingers, and the lead spire, from deep beneath the earth, pushed up on the island. It began to rise, and the island lifted from the sea of boiling stone. Soon, the whole structure was aloft, held up by a gargantuan tower of darkened lead.
The fear-god, now content that his land was protected from the sea's touch, decided it was time for his people to arise. He flew down from the grand mountains and landed in the valley. Summoning up a divine pulse, Hakku brought many worms from the grass, and many tiny grubs from the pods upon the trees. They folded and twisted together, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. Jointed, smooth limbs joined to a serpentine body with a sunken maw for a face. Tiny eyes dotted the petals of its jaws, and small tendrils grew from the creature's back. Hakku stood over this lifeless body, and cut open his palm, letting blood drip upon the spiritless corpse. It rose, slowly, as more of the same formed beside it. They wandered aimlessly through the lands, slowly gathering and staring at the sheer cliffs and endless formations of rock.
These were a strange race, destined to make arches and temples of strange and seemingly obtuse design. They were the People of Lead (pronounced led, like the element). They were destined as an unorthodix people, made to develop in ways that others did not.
Somebody they would spread fear in the mortal world. Or so Hakku hoped.
The fear-god, now content that his land was protected from the sea's touch, decided it was time for his people to arise. He flew down from the grand mountains and landed in the valley. Summoning up a divine pulse, Hakku brought many worms from the grass, and many tiny grubs from the pods upon the trees. They folded and twisted together, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape. Jointed, smooth limbs joined to a serpentine body with a sunken maw for a face. Tiny eyes dotted the petals of its jaws, and small tendrils grew from the creature's back. Hakku stood over this lifeless body, and cut open his palm, letting blood drip upon the spiritless corpse. It rose, slowly, as more of the same formed beside it. They wandered aimlessly through the lands, slowly gathering and staring at the sheer cliffs and endless formations of rock.
These were a strange race, destined to make arches and temples of strange and seemingly obtuse design. They were the People of Lead (pronounced led, like the element). They were destined as an unorthodix people, made to develop in ways that others did not.
Somebody they would spread fear in the mortal world. Or so Hakku hoped.
Stoic
M̷̵̧͜è͘͘͜m̡҉͞͞b̵̴̷e͟r̕͟
"They were great weren't they, Can't wait until they grow back" As Goggins said this the dust from the creatures melted into the ground and formed a dark purple bush that bore rainbow colored berries. The berries grew until they were large then from inside unfurled dozens of colorful creatures that flew into the distance "I call them mayflies"
The trickster then watched as the children of the All-Father created sapient life then shrugged when he decided he might as well mess with them. He snuck up on the newly born race of elemental breathing reptiles and gave the newborn race a gift. The laughter instilled in the Wyrms a great eye sight than could spot the tiniest glint and movement from the clouds but he also instilled in them greed and vanity as their eyes could see every detail and wanted every beauty. He gave the reptiles the ability to create a clutch of two dozen eggs but only one or two were the intelligent dragons. The rest were beasts who only knew to hunt and live barely intelligent on their own he would have called drakes.
Goggins then stared at Hakku's children he thought of some "Gift" to give them but couldn't think of any other way to mess with them so just choose to watch instead as they stared off into the cliff.
Lazzamore
WAAAAAAAAAA-
The Lech grew more and more intelligent, even though they were not created so. Eventually, the gift of speech was earned among their ranks. Dymos paid no mind as the army of fungus-creatures slithered out of the desert, slowly devouring all things growing in there way, and some not. As they grew powerful, they built towers of fungul cages, spewing their spores out into great clouds. Legions of young formed in damp places all over the world.
All the while, Dymos wandered through the desert, contemplating the universe. In the night sky he saw many other worlds. His soul burned to know more about them. He was so close to leaving this world to find new, impossible frontiers; But he had duty here. Duty that was not complete.
He wandered past a Lech hive, purple fungus cities rapidly grew in front of him. Dymos kept himself invisible from them, so he could simply observe their world. They were vicious, animalistic. They were not his Magnum Opus, his people. His plan for them were as livestock, but not yet. Moving forward he came to a green region where Feara sat, staring at a pile of colorful dust. It might be useful... He tore himself away. "Hello, Feara. How are you?"
All the while, Dymos wandered through the desert, contemplating the universe. In the night sky he saw many other worlds. His soul burned to know more about them. He was so close to leaving this world to find new, impossible frontiers; But he had duty here. Duty that was not complete.
He wandered past a Lech hive, purple fungus cities rapidly grew in front of him. Dymos kept himself invisible from them, so he could simply observe their world. They were vicious, animalistic. They were not his Magnum Opus, his people. His plan for them were as livestock, but not yet. Moving forward he came to a green region where Feara sat, staring at a pile of colorful dust. It might be useful... He tore himself away. "Hello, Feara. How are you?"
Drakey
A shape-shifting Dragon God
Paloria turned her attention back to her creations only to see Goggins slink away. Worried, she made her way down to her creations. Then, she found her brother's treachery. He had changed them! He had done something to them that she, herself, could not remove. He had cursed her children! He had stolen the light of thought from so many of their eyes! Infuriated by her brothers actions, Paloria forced a great mountain to burst from the center of her domain.
This would be the home of the Drakes. They would be the greatest treasure of her race. She sighed inwardly as she noticed something that Groggins had forgotten. The Drakes could still give birth to intelligent Dragons. Her anger calmed only slightly, she hollowed out the center of the cavern, leaving thin stone walls through which cooled magma flowed slowly, casting light throughout the cave.
Paloria hesitated as a sense of misery engulfed her fiery heart. Groggins would pay for his transgressions upon her creations. He would pay for how he had damaged them so. He would pay for how he took their greatest gift from so many of them. In misery, Paloria's heart burst into a fiery typhoon. Groggins had gone too far. She would hunt down anything and everything he created by his own two hands, and burn it to the ground. So much so that not even the All-Father would be able to restore them. Flying to the tip of her greatest mountain, Paloria looked towards the sun, releasing the anger and sorrow in her heart with screams and wails. Her screams reverberated across the entirety of the young world.
This would be the home of the Drakes. They would be the greatest treasure of her race. She sighed inwardly as she noticed something that Groggins had forgotten. The Drakes could still give birth to intelligent Dragons. Her anger calmed only slightly, she hollowed out the center of the cavern, leaving thin stone walls through which cooled magma flowed slowly, casting light throughout the cave.
Paloria hesitated as a sense of misery engulfed her fiery heart. Groggins would pay for his transgressions upon her creations. He would pay for how he had damaged them so. He would pay for how he took their greatest gift from so many of them. In misery, Paloria's heart burst into a fiery typhoon. Groggins had gone too far. She would hunt down anything and everything he created by his own two hands, and burn it to the ground. So much so that not even the All-Father would be able to restore them. Flying to the tip of her greatest mountain, Paloria looked towards the sun, releasing the anger and sorrow in her heart with screams and wails. Her screams reverberated across the entirety of the young world.
Spike1d23
Everyone's favorite turtle
Eira continues to walk the world aimlessly unsure of what to do in this strange world and pauses midstep when she hears screams and wails filled with anger and begins to venture to the land of fire far off in the distance due to curiosity as to what could make such a sound.
_BB_
Resident Bard
The Scribe shuddered as the scream rippled through the world. Paloria. They knew it without thinking. It was easy enough to tell even if the shower of flame and magma hadn't risen from the earth in the distance. The Scribe did not pause, trusting their feet to move them without true sight as they looked to the distance. Closer now, the stitches of creation were being pulled tight. What they did now was irreversible. Each stitch closed was impossible to be unpicked by each other, only added to and further grown. The Scribe could feel the vague shape of the dragons in the distance, outlined in Paloria's fiery aura. They were magnificent creatures, large and fierce, their roar echoing in the Scribe's mind. But the Scribe could see the glint of Goggins' workmanship in their eyes, could feel the rainbow mess of colours the same as the clouds of dust that were spreading across this new world. A new form of dragon rose from Goggins' treachery, dimmer, less vibrant, less present, than the dragons. The Scribe frowned at the corruption of these beautiful creatures, but they knew that Paloria would be enemy enough for Goggins to deal with. It was done. It was not the Scribe's place to pass judgement on their siblings, only watch and record.
The Scribe felt its awareness expanding as it grew accustomed to this new place, but the world's new creations were expanding faster. They had only to make it to the beginning, and it could go and investigate the new domains where its siblings lived. Hakku was resting on a great stone now crawling with life, and Dymos' creations were beginning their first attempts at speech, sending shivers of pleasure down the Scribe's spine. It itched to go and join them, but duty came first.
Ears twitching, the Scribe slowed to a graceful stop as its paws came down on grass. Standing, the Scribe examined the green life under its feet, the first true sight it had had of its siblings' creation. It walked now, feeling the life and the buzzing remains of its siblings it the life they had left behind here. A tree stood in the middle of the grass, already ancient by the standards of this world. Its roots reached deep, gave life to creatures below and above, the fruit it bore bright and shining with energy. It was beautiful. It bore the touch of several of the Scribe's siblings. It could see it in the twisting patterns of light and energy that curled around its branches. The Scibe didn't know what mischief Goggins had put into this tree, or how Hakku had changed it from the simple life that it had been at its birth, but it didn't matter what it had become. This tree was the beginning. This was the first creation of this world. It would be sacred to all the life that would grow in this place. Finally, the Scribe stood still.
Reaching out, the Scribe rested a hand on the trunk of the branch, and closed its luminous eyes. The physical world faded, but the spinning webs of energy all around it grew brighter, and the Scribe felt its own light warming it from within. The Scribe spun a stardrop from all the energies it could feel, all the gods and goddesses their Father had brought to this world, and placed it inside the tree. The tree's heart glowed now with life and energy. The fruit it bore glimmered with a new sheen. Whatever the Scribe's siblings did to this tree now, it would never wither or die. The life within it would remain there forever, a beacon of light from the essence of each of them. Should the people of this world come to it and ask, their gods would hear them. They would choose whether or not to answer.
The Scribe opened its eyes, letting its hand fall from the tree's trunk. Words rippled up and down its bark now, etched in a language no mortal living on this world would ever understand. They swarmed and trickled and eventually slowed to a stop. They would rest there, changing to reflect the happenings of this world as they occurred. They would speak the words of the gods to the mortals who asked questions of the tree.
Glancing up into the branches, the Scribe smiled. There was work to be done.
Waving a hand, the Scribe sent words flying from the tree on a breath of wind. It watched as they faded form physical sight and twisted into a ripple crossing the world to touch each of the creatures its siblings created, giving them names for the things they saw and made, giving them ways to express their needs and desires, to argue and to plead, to worship their gods. It gave them words.
Breathing in deeply, the Scribe closed its eyes and listened as the first words of mortal breath were spoken. Inelegant, for now, but they would learn. The Scribe wouldn't want to rob them of the opportunity to learn their speech, to develop their own idioms and languages and methods of communication. For the moment content that its work had been begun, the Scribe felt across the world for its siblings. Far away, Eira's frosted light was cast across the earth as she slowly moved towards Paloria. Goggins flickered and vanished in the same area, but between the raging pulse that was Paloria unleashing her anger at the new world, the clashing brightness of Eira, and Goggins just as a person, the Scribe had no desire to join them. Dymos and Feara were close by, their energies just touching, life and industry pushing against each other. Sensing that something may have its beginning there with which the Scribe had no desire to interfere, it
dropped once again to all fours, moving swiftly now across the energy plains towards the place where Hakku worked instead.
Rising to standing, the Scribe slowed to a stop beside Hakku, watching as his people gathered, newly aware of their existence, and now breathing in the words the Scribe had given them, learning how to communicate. It felt the currents and swirls of Hakku's mind working, whispering of fear and the work these beings would do. "Hello, brother," the Scribe said, looking up towards Hakku's beaked face. The Scribe gestured to the creatures below. "You certainly haven't wasted any time. Have you named them?"
The Scribe felt its awareness expanding as it grew accustomed to this new place, but the world's new creations were expanding faster. They had only to make it to the beginning, and it could go and investigate the new domains where its siblings lived. Hakku was resting on a great stone now crawling with life, and Dymos' creations were beginning their first attempts at speech, sending shivers of pleasure down the Scribe's spine. It itched to go and join them, but duty came first.
Ears twitching, the Scribe slowed to a graceful stop as its paws came down on grass. Standing, the Scribe examined the green life under its feet, the first true sight it had had of its siblings' creation. It walked now, feeling the life and the buzzing remains of its siblings it the life they had left behind here. A tree stood in the middle of the grass, already ancient by the standards of this world. Its roots reached deep, gave life to creatures below and above, the fruit it bore bright and shining with energy. It was beautiful. It bore the touch of several of the Scribe's siblings. It could see it in the twisting patterns of light and energy that curled around its branches. The Scibe didn't know what mischief Goggins had put into this tree, or how Hakku had changed it from the simple life that it had been at its birth, but it didn't matter what it had become. This tree was the beginning. This was the first creation of this world. It would be sacred to all the life that would grow in this place. Finally, the Scribe stood still.
Reaching out, the Scribe rested a hand on the trunk of the branch, and closed its luminous eyes. The physical world faded, but the spinning webs of energy all around it grew brighter, and the Scribe felt its own light warming it from within. The Scribe spun a stardrop from all the energies it could feel, all the gods and goddesses their Father had brought to this world, and placed it inside the tree. The tree's heart glowed now with life and energy. The fruit it bore glimmered with a new sheen. Whatever the Scribe's siblings did to this tree now, it would never wither or die. The life within it would remain there forever, a beacon of light from the essence of each of them. Should the people of this world come to it and ask, their gods would hear them. They would choose whether or not to answer.
The Scribe opened its eyes, letting its hand fall from the tree's trunk. Words rippled up and down its bark now, etched in a language no mortal living on this world would ever understand. They swarmed and trickled and eventually slowed to a stop. They would rest there, changing to reflect the happenings of this world as they occurred. They would speak the words of the gods to the mortals who asked questions of the tree.
Glancing up into the branches, the Scribe smiled. There was work to be done.
Waving a hand, the Scribe sent words flying from the tree on a breath of wind. It watched as they faded form physical sight and twisted into a ripple crossing the world to touch each of the creatures its siblings created, giving them names for the things they saw and made, giving them ways to express their needs and desires, to argue and to plead, to worship their gods. It gave them words.
Breathing in deeply, the Scribe closed its eyes and listened as the first words of mortal breath were spoken. Inelegant, for now, but they would learn. The Scribe wouldn't want to rob them of the opportunity to learn their speech, to develop their own idioms and languages and methods of communication. For the moment content that its work had been begun, the Scribe felt across the world for its siblings. Far away, Eira's frosted light was cast across the earth as she slowly moved towards Paloria. Goggins flickered and vanished in the same area, but between the raging pulse that was Paloria unleashing her anger at the new world, the clashing brightness of Eira, and Goggins just as a person, the Scribe had no desire to join them. Dymos and Feara were close by, their energies just touching, life and industry pushing against each other. Sensing that something may have its beginning there with which the Scribe had no desire to interfere, it
dropped once again to all fours, moving swiftly now across the energy plains towards the place where Hakku worked instead.
Rising to standing, the Scribe slowed to a stop beside Hakku, watching as his people gathered, newly aware of their existence, and now breathing in the words the Scribe had given them, learning how to communicate. It felt the currents and swirls of Hakku's mind working, whispering of fear and the work these beings would do. "Hello, brother," the Scribe said, looking up towards Hakku's beaked face. The Scribe gestured to the creatures below. "You certainly haven't wasted any time. Have you named them?"
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Stoic
M̷̵̧͜è͘͘͜m̡҉͞͞b̵̴̷e͟r̕͟
Goggins bored of the led men made his way back to the giving tree. He wondered why it had not produced the proper spawns to spread friendliness towards people and instead seemed to have started to become its own strange artifact. The trickster couldn't bare the thought that one of his first creations was a failure and so decided to make more adjustments to help spread and create the plant into its own species.
When he arrived he found a fox like creature nearby trying to talk to the featherless god Hakku. He greeted them with a smile "Hello sibling, Fine day it is today." but his face turned serious for a moment "Though there was this loud bellow from sister Paloria she sounded angry. Maybe we should go see if she's ok, Afterall we only have each other right now and if there's a problem with her it's in all our best interest help her" He said with a concerned look for the dragon.
"Just give me a minute though, I need to work on this tree not making any proper saplings" He said as he started to run his hand again on the tree.
When he arrived he found a fox like creature nearby trying to talk to the featherless god Hakku. He greeted them with a smile "Hello sibling, Fine day it is today." but his face turned serious for a moment "Though there was this loud bellow from sister Paloria she sounded angry. Maybe we should go see if she's ok, Afterall we only have each other right now and if there's a problem with her it's in all our best interest help her" He said with a concerned look for the dragon.
"Just give me a minute though, I need to work on this tree not making any proper saplings" He said as he started to run his hand again on the tree.
_BB_
Resident Bard
The Scribe fought the urge to roll its eyes as Goggins approached. He'd already had about enough of Goggins in this realm, and they hadn't even spoken yet. If the Scribe had a vow of non-interference, Goggins had to be their opposite. The trickster couldn't help but meddle. Still, at least it gave the Scribe something to write about.
"Hello, Laugher," the Scribe greeted. It scoffed slightly. "I have my doubts it would be in your best interests to ask Paloria her state of affairs right at this moment, my brother, seeing as how she has just decided to burn everything you ever create to cinders, but by all means, go and try and talk her down." The small fox glanced up at Goggins. "Your concern for her wellbeing is admirable, brother, but at the moment, the only enemy she faces is you."
"Hello, Laugher," the Scribe greeted. It scoffed slightly. "I have my doubts it would be in your best interests to ask Paloria her state of affairs right at this moment, my brother, seeing as how she has just decided to burn everything you ever create to cinders, but by all means, go and try and talk her down." The small fox glanced up at Goggins. "Your concern for her wellbeing is admirable, brother, but at the moment, the only enemy she faces is you."
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Stoic
M̷̵̧͜è͘͘͜m̡҉͞͞b̵̴̷e͟r̕͟
With a chuckle the trickster said, "Ohh that's a good nickname I think I'll keep it." Then raised an eyebrow before he continued "And why pray tell would she want to be my enemy, I can think of few reasons for her anger being directed at me though even if she was angry the right thing to do would be to help her out. I honestly wonder about her fury and the mental state of our dear sister" he said with concern
None of what Goggins said was a lie. There was only one reason she would be angry at The Laugher and that was because he messed with Paloria's creations, The right thing to do would have been to help her but that wasn't what Goggins truly cared for and he did wonder about Paloria's rage but mostly out of curiosity.
None of what Goggins said was a lie. There was only one reason she would be angry at The Laugher and that was because he messed with Paloria's creations, The right thing to do would have been to help her but that wasn't what Goggins truly cared for and he did wonder about Paloria's rage but mostly out of curiosity.
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ChelonianCommander
Strength of Steel, Will of Iron
Mutare crawls out of his cave in the middle of his Garden of Chance, awakened by Paloria's bellow. He looks around at his garden to see that after centuries of waiting for the inhabitants to evolve, that his garden had now become barren and dead.
"Garden dead. Life failed to change. Must begin again" He said before retreating back into his cave. Inside are honeycomb like structures, with each comb containing a glass orb. He looks around these honeycombs but all he saw were empty glass. "Sparks gone. Must recollect. Must rebuild." He takes several of these orbs in his gangling hands and then heads outside into the greater world to begin his quest to rebuild his garden. The first creature he encountered is a strange cage, which spread high up into the skies. At first glance he didn't know whether or not this was a living creature, but upon closer examination he found that it was indeed alive. "Strange. Fungal creature. Creates nest. Spreads spores in the sky. Effective, but inefficient method of reproduction." He said, but Mutare needed to start somewhere. He takes out one of his orbs and began draining the life from the cage, filling the orb with the organism's spark of life, killing the cage in the process. This shall be the basis of his first creation. With the spark of the fungal creature in his possession he leaves to find another creature to collect from.
Mutare traveled to the fiery realm of Paloria, as there he might find strong subjects to collect from. He was not disappointed, but at the same time it wasn't what he was expecting. He found a clutch of a dozen eggs in a great mountain, found in the center of Paloria's realm ,spawned from these reptilian creatures. He examines them further. "Winged Reptile. Egg laying. Strong. Powerful. Some intelligent. Some not. Strange Design choice. Collect. Make better." He said before collecting the spark from the eggs, killing the clutch, but giving him the spark he desired. With the two sparks he had created, he now has the basis for his work. Before Paloria could find him, Mutare quickly retreated back into his cave, where he set to work.
Weaving the two sparks together with needle like fingers. weaving together the sparks, taking what information he wanted and discarding the ones he didn't need and forging them into a new beast. Soon the two sparks had become one. A child of the previous two but its own creation all the same. "New organism. Collector. Livings in large colonies. Nests in cages. Flies around world. Eats pray. Collect Sparks. Brings back to nest. Helps with work." He takes the orb containing the Collector's spark and shatters it onto the ground, allowing the spark to take shape and grow into a large lavender cage structure, and inside is a large creature, similar to Paloria's drakes in build and size, but they were a lavender and had no capability of higher intellect, only a primal instinct to collect sparks. When they were ready his new Collectors flew from their cage, dozens spreading across the entire world to unknowingly collect for their master.
"Garden dead. Life failed to change. Must begin again" He said before retreating back into his cave. Inside are honeycomb like structures, with each comb containing a glass orb. He looks around these honeycombs but all he saw were empty glass. "Sparks gone. Must recollect. Must rebuild." He takes several of these orbs in his gangling hands and then heads outside into the greater world to begin his quest to rebuild his garden. The first creature he encountered is a strange cage, which spread high up into the skies. At first glance he didn't know whether or not this was a living creature, but upon closer examination he found that it was indeed alive. "Strange. Fungal creature. Creates nest. Spreads spores in the sky. Effective, but inefficient method of reproduction." He said, but Mutare needed to start somewhere. He takes out one of his orbs and began draining the life from the cage, filling the orb with the organism's spark of life, killing the cage in the process. This shall be the basis of his first creation. With the spark of the fungal creature in his possession he leaves to find another creature to collect from.
Mutare traveled to the fiery realm of Paloria, as there he might find strong subjects to collect from. He was not disappointed, but at the same time it wasn't what he was expecting. He found a clutch of a dozen eggs in a great mountain, found in the center of Paloria's realm ,spawned from these reptilian creatures. He examines them further. "Winged Reptile. Egg laying. Strong. Powerful. Some intelligent. Some not. Strange Design choice. Collect. Make better." He said before collecting the spark from the eggs, killing the clutch, but giving him the spark he desired. With the two sparks he had created, he now has the basis for his work. Before Paloria could find him, Mutare quickly retreated back into his cave, where he set to work.
Weaving the two sparks together with needle like fingers. weaving together the sparks, taking what information he wanted and discarding the ones he didn't need and forging them into a new beast. Soon the two sparks had become one. A child of the previous two but its own creation all the same. "New organism. Collector. Livings in large colonies. Nests in cages. Flies around world. Eats pray. Collect Sparks. Brings back to nest. Helps with work." He takes the orb containing the Collector's spark and shatters it onto the ground, allowing the spark to take shape and grow into a large lavender cage structure, and inside is a large creature, similar to Paloria's drakes in build and size, but they were a lavender and had no capability of higher intellect, only a primal instinct to collect sparks. When they were ready his new Collectors flew from their cage, dozens spreading across the entire world to unknowingly collect for their master.
Lazzamore
WAAAAAAAAAA-
Lech workers scatter. Among the far spread colonies of the Lech, rudimentary words of fear and death are spread, explaining a nightmarish scenario where a whole tower withered away and collapsed. The Lech had spread far and wide; In the Orange, carved canyons tall grass thrived, but most trees failed to take root. The strong grass made easy, if unsatisfying, food for the Lech hive there. Farther east, a range of black mountains gave host to mighty, massive trees that were difficult to eat for the Lech and made for a poor hive. Farther still, the sickly-purple haze of spores landed among eternally volcanic mountains, ruled by the Dragons. Quietly, that made a thriving hive living off the mountains rich soil. Finally, Far in the north, Lech migrate about, consuming the life around them, which went toward their own survival until they found a suitable place for their hive among rocky tundra, a difficult endeavor indeed, if not for the Lech's greed and tenacity.